


Obedience School

by sheskindahoran



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Beating, Dehumanization, Electrocution, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Muzzles, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Psychological Torture, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture, Whump, Whumptober, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-08-28 12:57:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16723845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheskindahoran/pseuds/sheskindahoran
Summary: Tony doesn't want to see Peter like this.He doesn't want Peter to see him like this, either.And, damn, if they have to be in this cell any longer, Peter might just lose his mind. He might just be gone for good.God. It doesn't look hopeful.





	1. the spark that starts it all

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to send in whump suggestions to tumblr: ironspyderr! I'm almost always online.
> 
> Also, I know it's short. I'm getting myself ready for the fun.

Three days pass. No one comes in, no one goes out.

Peter subconsciously smacks his lips together repetitively, his body desperate for water. His stomach feels like a cavity. Tony doesn’t know how to help.

The iron binding their respective wrists to the wall almost isn’t needed anymore; without any sustenance, the two have fallen weaker than they’d like to admit. Peter’s enhanced metabolism is killing him. He sprawls out where he can.

And then, in a burst of red light, three armed guards escort a coat-cloaked man into the room. Peter knows he should not feel hopeful, but he needs to drink. This man could get him that.

A moment of silence passes as the four scan their hostages. Tony, ever the antagonist, defiantly barks, “What do you want?”  

The man in the cloak hints at a smile. “And here I was, thinking you might be bored and tired after a few days in solitary. Perhaps you need a little more time without food and water to learn your place.”

He turns to walk from the room, grinning widely, until Tony cries, “ _No!_ No, please. He needs to drink. Please, don’t. What do you want from me?” He emphasizes the “me,” hoping they’ll take the hint and leave the kid alone, hoping they’ll remember this isn’t Peter’s fault, hoping they’ll go easy on them.

It’s never easy.

Tony’s eyes flicker towards Peter—Peter, who is laying on the ground and approaching unconsciousness. The man in the coat stops and grins wider. Gesturing towards one of his men, he orders them to “bring in his things” before looking back devilishly to Tony.

“You, Stark, aren’t interesting enough for me,” he says, stepping closer. “The boy, however—well, just look at him.” They all pause, taking a moment to focus their eyes on the worn and weary kid. Tony knows Peter’s capabilities. Do they? “I want to see what he can do, what he can become.

“Don’t you?” He’s speaking now at Tony, looking genuinely interested. But, fuck, he doesn’t want to know what this guy has in mind. Of course he wants to see what Peter can become, but they’re probably not thinking on the same terms.

Before Tony answers, the guard returns with a carpet bag, “Dr. E” embroidered on the side in red yarn.

“Mm,” Dr. E hums, reaching for his things. “Ah, I’ve waited months for this.”

 _Months?_ Fuck. Nothing good can come of that.

Dr. E mutters something to one of his men, who then approaches them both with an unlabeled bottle in each hand. He tends to Peter first, sitting him upright and forcing the nipple in his mouth. Tony can see the liquid inside the plastic, but it’s too viscous to be just water. Still, his hands are bound. What’s he supposed to do?

His own bottle tastes fine. Maybe they want to suppress Peter’s abilities, but Tony—a mere mortal—has nothing to suppress. Without the armor…

While he was lost in thought, Dr. E locked a collar around Peter’s neck. There’s an unmistakable hum sounding from it, a buzz that Tony dreads. With one _zap!_ Peter is back with them. He sucks in a breath and tries to pull himself all the way into consciousness.

“Nice of you to join us,” Dr. E says, his smile wide and his hands in his pockets. His thumb moves and Tony hears another small _zap!_

“Stop!” Tony shouts. “What is _wrong_ with you?” Peter’s shoulders are caving in towards his neck, trying desperately to protect himself.

Dr. E’s face falls dark. “You better watch yourself, Stark. I haven’t even begun.” He turns on his heel and tosses the remote from his pocket to one of the guards. Without looking back, he calls, “Have fun, boys.” The door slams shut on his heels.

Their cell falls quiet. The man now with the remote sets down his machine gun and tests out one of the buttons with his thumb, delivering two succinct _zapzaps_ to Peter. Tony hears Peter suppress a small whimper and he thrashes against his bonds.

“Let him _go. Now_ ,” Tony barks, his eyes twitching with unadulterated anger.

The guard looks eerily to Tony and with a curl of his lip, presses hard on the remote. “Ee _AAH!_ ” Peter shrieks, thrashing against the wall. The metal clangs and Tony reaches desperately for him to no avail. He can only plead for the guards to finish their sick game as Peter’s muscles contract painfully and his veins protrude from his skin.

The dial turns up, Tony can tell. Peter’s beginning to convulse. His body is falling down the wall and his head is smacking the concrete and—

“ _Please,_ God,” Tony begs, all defiance vanished in his voice. “I’m sorry! Please, stop! Please.”

The hum ceases and Peter slumps over. His eyes flutter close, but his shoulder twitches still. Tony sighs in relief.

“Mm,” one guard approves in the silence. “I love boys who plead.”

Tony snaps his head towards them. He wants so badly to strangle them, to shut them up, to pound their heads in. But he’s already hurt Peter enough. He’s already been horrible enough to him. He’d…kill himself before harming Peter any more.

“I suggest you find your place, Stark,” the one with the remote says. “We like submissive boys here. Besides, your boy is too pretty to pass up, and—

“You’ll _never_ get—”

“Goodbye, pets,” the guard says, following the other men out the door. The door clicks closed on their heels, and in this first almost-peaceful silence, with Peter unconscious or asleep or whatever, Tony lets himself cry.


	2. what comes before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the capture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a bit, guys. Let me know on tumblr if you want me to continue @ironspyderr. I'm bored and heading off to school soon so I'm online!

Buildings don’t fall over easily in New York. Not since 9/11, and certainly not since the Battle. But in an all-too-familiar act of Ned distracting other students while Peter sneaks out of their moving bus, the city is reminded of how little can be done for a collapsing tower.

He arrives downtown to purple car fires and the sounds of shots. The ground shakes beneath him.

“What happened here?” Peter whispers to himself. He stands in shock, twisting around to survey the scene. An instant later, Iron Man flies overhead, racing towards the skyscraper falling to its knees. The top of the building is missing, with the upper two-thirds leaning at a 45-degree angle. Flames seem to engulf what’s standing.

Peter _thwips_ out a web, yanking himself along Tony’s trail. “Mr. Stark!” he shouts, hoping to get his attention. A beam of purple energy shoots from the antenna of a neighboring building and into the clouded sky. The world feels dark suddenly, save for this light. He swings on.

Mr. Stark turns too many corners and Peter loses him, but it’s not hard to guess where he’s going. There’s a _tower_ collapsing.

He skids to a stop in the intersection below the building, horrified and amazed as Captain America is hit with falling debris as he runs from the building’s lobby doors, still managing to shield the young man in his arms. Peter forces his panic to fall away. Right now, he needs to be Spider-Man, not a sixteen-year-old kid. Right now, he needs to be fearless.

He launches himself into the skyrise, searching for anybody. When he lands in the middle of a cubicle, Peter hones in on his hearing. Alarms pierce his eardrums, but he desperately shifts past the extraneous noise. There are people trapped two floors up.

The stairwell is blocked, so he punches out the glass of the windows. Flaming debris flies by and he feels the tower begin to break apart again. Peter begins to crawl up the overhang.

When he reaches the floor, he catapults himself inside and over the raging fire. Quick feet land him by the restrooms, where a few women can be heard. He darts in.

The two women in pantsuits have turned on all of the sink faucets and are desperately trying to splash water on the fires out past the tile of the bathroom. Their faces are red and weary and one of them looks as if she’s been coughing a lung out. Peter doesn’t think; he just acts.

After an unparalleled rescue mission of web-slinging and web-wrapping, he manages to bring them both down to ground level and push them towards authorities. Cap stands at the forefront of a police barrier, his face scrunched and afraid but he doesn’t move. The top half of the tower leans too far. As part of the skyscraper falls in on itself, the rest of it topples over. In an instant, the streets are swept with a blast of smoky, ashy air heated from hell itself. The crowds are far enough to get on without damage.

Iron Man _clangs_ down to the pavement next to Peter. Captain Rogers looks over, his face solemn. Natasha and Clint appear out of nowhere. “This fight has not ended,” Mr. Stark begins, the mask revealing his dirty face. “That purple light, the purple fire—this isn’t Earthly. Call up. We need every hand.”

A booming voice resounds from the top of a neighboring tower—Avengers Tower. Or, what used to be their Avengers Tower. The five of them turn and look for a moment, until Tony asks for their attention. “We take this on together. FRIDAY’s working on getting Fury. Wait until there’s more of you. I’ll keep this guy busy.” The helmet of the Iron Man suit locks down over Tony’s face before he turns and propels himself off. There’s not a moment to even debate with him.

Peter still tries to.

“Mr. Stark!” he screams, shooting himself off into the sky, too. He hears Nat and Cap call him back, but he’s deaf to their demands. He can’t just let this old guy fight off some alien _whatever_ all by himself. What kind of self-sacrificing—

Thanos? No. Can’t. He—no. God, no.

But it’s all Peter can focus on when he gets up to the rooftop. There, in the flesh, is his fear manifested. His heart pauses for a moment at the sight.

Tony doesn’t seem to care. He’s not even in the suit. No, instead, he’s got on sweatpants and a shirt and absolutely no protection. Mr. Stark doesn’t look afraid—he looks angry. He looks lost.

Peter opens his mouth to ask if everyone made it out of the building until he realizes Mr. Stark can’t be bothered with that right now. The guy is standing defenseless in front of the ugliest looking Thanos-sized man-monster he’s ever seen. Even the thing’s tough blue skin is almost vomit-inducing.

_Thanos. Suffocation and isolation and caging and fear and losing hope and-_

No. Breathe, Spider-Man.

Peter stays at the edge of the roof so Mr. Stark won’t see him. His mind urges him to grab the man and swing off the roof, away from this titan-thing, but logic suppresses these thoughts.

“Earth is not for the taking, Papa Smurf,” Mr. Stark barks. “Now, if you and your droids could kindly go back to wherever you came from, I think we’ll all be better off.”

The titan smiles wickedly. “You’re a bit too late, Stark. I’ve left them hungry, and you two certainly seem appetizing for a first taste.”

“Two?” Mr. Stark says, confusion knocking him back. He starts to turn towards Peter. “What are you—fucking hell.” Peter freezes. He just wanted to be available in case Mr. Stark needed backup. He didn’t mean to be in the confrontation.

The man-monster capitalizes on Mr. Stark’s diverted attention, shooting him in the back with a short burst of purple fire from the gauntlet on his wrist. Peter darts forward in an attempt to catch Tony as he’s thrown forward in a seemingly-endless somersault. He barely hears the blue man laugh darkly and demand “Get them” over his frantic scramble to get Mr. Stark into his suit.

Mr. Stark isn’t conscious, however, and he can’t get him in properly. The droids are approaching too fast.

He lays Mr. Stark on the ground and begins shaking him, calling desperately for him to wake up. As a single eyelid begins to fall open, a blast of fire catches the Iron Man suit and Peter ducks. He hops up into a fighting stance, hoping he can hold them off while Tony gets himself together and into his armor.

“Should I activate Instant Kill Mode?” Karen asks over the speakers in Peter’s suit.

“Karen!” he says. “I thought we talked about this.”

“This is a different situation. It felt appropriate.”

“Well, they’re metal, yeah? Let’s go with taser webs. Maybe we can short out their circuits.”

“Activating the ‘Y2K Bug’ Protocol.” Peter breathes deeply once more before launching himself at the closest machine. He throws out webs as fast as his shooters can string them together, simultaneously deactivating droids and chucking them off the roof.

“On your left, Spider-Man!” he hears Mr. Stark shout from behind him, but he turns too late. The beam knocks him straight in the chest and sends him flying. His heel catches the pavement and he tumbles, rolling backwards and sideways until his head smashes painfully against the ledge at the edge of the roof and then lolls to the right. His body goes limp.

Not even Tony—a suit-less, burned, desperate Tony—can stop them from yanking Peter up and pressing one of their blasters against the side of his drooping head.

“On your knees, Stark,” the titan demands. “Any other movement, I vaporize him.” Tony hesitates, racing to figure out a solution where they both come out unscathed, but he can’t. He can’t get any tech without killing Peter. “On your knees!” he shouts again, and Tony drops, defeated.

“Grab him.”

He has to let them, and he hates himself for it. Metal clangs against the side of his head and he falls over.

God, he hates himself.


End file.
